


Semantics

by ipsilateral



Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24136918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ipsilateral/pseuds/ipsilateral
Summary: Dan has died many times in daydreams. It's what gets him to keep living.
Relationships: Amy Brookheimer/Dan Egan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Semantics

**Author's Note:**

> A short short scene that's been languishing on my hard drive. Season 5-ish.

Dan has been drinking as fast as possible, which means he's already pretty wasted by the time the bar fills up. He barely even notices that somewhere along the way, Amy started occupying the seat next to him. By the looks of it, she's taken her own running start in a personal competition to beat Dan to shitfaced-ness. They drink in unusual silence for a bit until someone waves hello to Dan about twenty-seven times. It takes him a second to realize that he knows this person, this person who's waving like an idiot, and that this person is Richard. 

"Hello," Richard says brightly. "We're taking the interns out for drinks!"

"Hey, great," Dan yells. "It's heartwarming to see dickless wonders sticking together. DC can be a rough city to navigate alone." He raises his glass.

Richard just beams even harder and starts talking about the history of the castrati. Dan immediately goes to his happy place imaginarium, where he's smart enough to hide a capsule of cyanide in his mouth so that he can make a graceful exit off this fucked up planet with just a single bite. 

Dan has died many times in daydreams. It's what gets him to keep living.

To his right, Amy slides her empty glass forward a few inches, then silently signals to the bartender for another. "Fuck me," she exhales, her first words of the night, and Jonah magically appears at her side like some Marfan Syndrome genie.

"Jesus, Amy, you've gotten so desperate for it," he crows, even as she grimaces and leans away from him. "Lucky for you, tonight is Pity Fuck Night at the Haus of Jonah Ryan. Ladies get in fo' freeeee."

Amy looks at him like he's a personified fart. "Mike says your back is a mogul run made of cystic acne, so count me out."

"Fuck you," Jonah retorts, just as Richard helpfully cuts in with, "Oh, he just got a prescription for that."

Anything else they say is drowned out by the sausage party of interns that suddenly envelops the two of them and buoys them away in a whirlwind of whooping. Dan catches glimpses of Richard's smile, somehow wider than humanly possible -- and seriously, those goddamn smile flashes make it seem like someone's thumb is popping into his ass at unexpected intervals.

"Looks like the Congressman already has a harem," Dan says conversationally. "Despite the bacne."

Amy rolls her eyes. "Remind me to put the suicide hotline back on speed dial." 

Neither of them outwardly acknowledge the keyword _back_ , but it's a known fact that Mike was responsible for the first assigning of 800-273-TALK to speed dial way back when, and twice more after that. Jonah, an admirable nine times; Gary, only once, which is bullshit. Dan wonders how many times he's made it. The competitive side of him hopes it's more than motherfucking Jonah. The realistic side of him knows he doesn't stand a chance against Selina. 

Amy puts her head down on her arms. Dan huffs out a laugh and looks at the way the Edison lights make her hair seem darker than usual. It doesn't feel like he's watching her for too long, but by the time he shifts his gaze, he realizes that Amy is now staring directly at him.

"Ew," she says. Her expression is a diluted version of the one she'd just given Jonah. "No. No. Never."

Dan lip-farts. "Just the usual trap of getting sentimental and horny during the holidays," he dismisses. "And I think you mean never _again_?" 

He leans back instinctively when she crowds into his space to grab at the half-full shotglass to his right and downs that, too. Before he can say anything else, she's gathering up her stuff and sliding off the stool without even looking back at him, which is pretty hot. Dan's usually good about keeping his dick in check, but sometimes Amy still gets him in the most unexpected ways. 

"What are your holiday plans?" he calls out before she can make it out the door. 

"Becoming a born-again Christian," Amy yells back. 

"Right, so I should only expect blowjobs and anal?" Dan asks loudly. There's a brief lull in ambient noise as the other bar patrons look up, match the words to their source, then, unsurprised, resume their own conversations within half a second. 

Amy doesn't quite glare at him, but she's clearly fuming, and really, it's his fault. He can't help himself. She can probably throw a pretty good punch and half the time that's what he's expecting, but a punch would be worth it for how angry she gets. Dan totally gets off on that, which, considering all the depraved things that exist on the internet, shouldn't even register on the shock factor scale. He's vanilla, all told. 

He tips the glass in his hand and examines it skeptically, as if it's putting psychic thoughts in his head. When he looks back up, Amy is talking to the bouncer and giving Dan one last death stare before disappearing. And maybe it really is the holidays, or the alcohol, or just life in general at the moment, but even though there's a 95% chance of getting clotheslined by the bouncer if he gets up now, he doesn't hesitate before grabbing his coat and chasing down his best worst idea.


End file.
